@dorianadel

Dorian Adel

A clash of blades. Powerful, unforgiving strikes. It was finally time. All of the pain, all of the hardships that we’d endured had led to this day. I refused to stop. My enemy narrowed in my sights, everything around us bled away as we charged at one another. Before we were simply men, standing on a rock. Today…today we were but gods standing amongst the heavens!

My sword gripped tightly, his the same. A look of dedication painted over his face. This man would not stop, but neither would I. Death was watching as a spectator, ready to claim the loser as its own. That would not be me. I had come to far to fail here. A charge. A parry. A reposte. All seemed to be for naught. Equally challenged, yet on this day I would somehow prevail against this monster. This traitor.

He held his sword out to me like a javelin, charging valiantly. I could only block the attack and swung under him, the tip of my blade striking off the ground below us and making contact. He fell to his knees. Panic struck his face as hard as my blade caught his midsection. This was it, all of this had come to a point right here and now. Lifting my long sword once more, I brought it down upon him, closing my eyes. I didn’t feel anything. No contact. What had happened? I had him dead to rights. Around me, I could smell…flowers? I could feel the heat of a sun that was completely foreign to me. Upon opening my eyes, I was greeted by a dirt road running between a forested area, leading to an inn. What force had put me here? And why? I let my sword return to its slumber in its sheath and made my way to the only building in sight.

My Appearance

Always dressed in a combination of a button down shirt of varying colors and a waistcoat of the same. A needlessly complex system of woven belts holding a long sword and a scabbard to his side. Usually in either black or brown leather jeans. His hair shorn basically to the scalp on the sides and medium length on top, usually styled upwards. Dark green eyes, almost a turquoise or jade color.

Inventory

A small leather messenger bag.

Week’s worth of clothing. A set of steel vambraces that are rarely worn.

His long sword that has no name, yet. It is made of a metal that is native to his homeland, the middle and fuller of the blade are a brilliant, metallic white color, the edging and point are a dark blue color.

My Secrets Are...

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that he may not have a home to return to.

I Believe...

That no matter what, a knight of Voda should maintain a spirited demeanor and outlook. I will not succumb to idle thoughts of dread.